


cub

by burrfication



Category: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Fluff, Kaer Morhen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:42:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27557056
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/burrfication/pseuds/burrfication
Summary: Witcher parenting makes little sense to Yennefer, but Geralt makes a better guardian than she would have thought. Ciri, at least, adores him - if only she hadn't decided to throw aside her courtly manners to fit in."I'll never recover. I've been defeated by my own student," he said, his voice grave despite the obvious delight he could not hide. Ciri giggled and whacked him on the shoulder."Now you're being silly.""Witchers can't be silly. The mutations strip us of the capability," Geralt said, just as gravely as before.
Relationships: Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon & Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg
Comments: 24
Kudos: 160





	cub

**Author's Note:**

> This is pure fluff. Minor content warnings for treating being a witcher as a gender and a passing mention of sex. Inspired by videos of overly dramatic big cats teaching their cubs to hunt.

Witcher parenting was something Yennefer would never understand. 

Before coming to Kaer Morhen, she had thought she was beginning to understand Geralt and the peculiarities of witchers. Nothing could be further than the truth. In the safety of their own home, they relaxed, and the less human habits they hid started to shine through. Far worse, in Yennefer's opinion, was how obvious it became they were a group of men. The keep was filthy. The witchers were loud and drunk and rude, swapping stories of battles and lovers alike. Geralt, at least, had the survival instinct to refrain from the latter, but that did not stop him chiming in with his dreadful sense of humour. An ordinary man might have kept the jokes to himself after being exposed to Yennefer's most judgemental look, but not Geralt. He and his brothers knew no fear. 

And in the midst of it all was feral little Ciri, who had taken to witchering like a duck to water. Gone was the sweet princess of Cintra. In her place was a half-feral young witcher, who resented terms like "girl" and "princess" and was more than happy to whack you with her training sword if you made a mistake. She dismissed the dresses she had worn into the keep as "girl's clothes", and therefore inappropriate. Instead, she wore the hideous leathers Vesemir had sewn together from the clothing of witcher-children long dead. When Yennefer first asked her to entertain in the evening, she did not sing or recite poetry as was appropriate. Instead, she proudly performed a song exclusively using armpit farts. In all things, Ciri strove to imitate the witchers, and Geralt most of all. When Ciri caught and killed a huge rat with her sword, she skinned it and hung it from her bedroom door, the same way the witchers did with monster pelts. When left alone one evening, she used a knife to shave the sides of her head to imitate Geralt’s hairstyle. She cursed as badly as any of the witchers did and complained they would not share their alcohol with her. 

"You've managed to turn a princess into a savage little beast," Yennefer told Geralt. Geralt grunted. 

"She did most of it herself."

"Because of the example you and your brothers set," Yennefer said. Behind Geralt, the door opened a fraction, and Ciri crept in. Instead of running to them as she usually did, she stuck to the shadows and hid behind furniture. Geralt's eyes flicked to the side, but he did not acknowledge her presence. He shifted his weight and crossed his hands over his chest. 

"If you have a specific complaint, I'd love to hear it."

As Yennefer expanded on her list of complaints, Ciri crept closer and closer. At last she dashed, closing the distance in an instant. She slammed into Geralt at full speed, her arms wrapping around her thighs. Her weight was lowered, and when she straightened, she moved up and to the side. Geralt's balance broke, and he fell to the ground with a mighty shout. He stayed loose and relaxed as he fell, shifting onto his back and pulling his muscles together to protect his spine. Once down, he lay there as if winded and hurt, giving Ciri time to scramble on top of him. He groaned. 

"You got me!"

"I did!" Ciri beamed. She looked happier than Yennefer had ever seen her. She looked almost as proud as Geralt, who reached up to ruffle her hair. 

"I'll never recover. I've been defeated by my own student," he said, his voice grave despite the obvious delight he could not hide. Ciri giggled and whacked him on the shoulder.

"Now you're being silly."

"Witchers can't be silly. The mutations strip us of the capability," Geralt said, just as gravely as before. Ciri giggled again. They wrestled for a few minutes more, interrupted only by laughter. When Eskel poked his head in to see what was happening, he grinned. 

"Ciri get you off guard again? You're getting slow."

"Again?" Yennefer asked. Geralt shrugged. 

"She got Lambert three times yesterday. She's quick," Geralt said, while Eskel nodded in agreement. They acted as if it were entirely believable that a young girl could take armed and fully-trained witchers to the ground if she was clever and quick about it. It was a novel way of teaching to Yennefer, but she found she did not disapprove as much as she expected. Anything that made Geralt and Ciri laugh so hard could not be worthless. But it further cemented in Ciri's mind her status as a witcher, and it was only her adoration of Yennefer that kept her open to things like dresses and courtly manners. 

When Yennefer decided it was time to teach Ciri about make-up, she was smart enough not to go to Ciri directly. She started by wrangling Geralt into the chair. He grumbled and growled the entire time, but he stayed obedient and still as Yennefer painted his lips and eyelids. When she was done, she pulled back and patted Geralt on the cheek. 

"Good boy," she cooed, earning a heated look from Geralt and a giggle from Ciri. 

"He's not a boy, he's a witcher."

"Damn straight."

Yennefer resisted the urge to roll her eyes. "Out of the chair, witcher. It's Ciri's turn."

That evening, after Yennefer had put Geralt through his paces, he stumbled over to the wardrobe and began to dress. Yennefer raised an eyebrow, lounging nude on the bed. 

"Don't tell me you've developed a sense of modesty."

"It's a bit late for that," Geralt said dryly. "Ciri gets nightmares sometimes. Don't want her to run in on me naked."

Yennefer considered this. With a flick of her fingers she changed the sheets and dressed herself in a simple black sleeping shift. She fell asleep to the sound of Geralt pottering around the room, cleaning the place up. She stirred when Geralt joined her, but he soothed her with a soft murmur. 

Shortly after midnight, they were woken by the door to Geralt's room slamming open. Still half asleep, Geralt sat up and opened his arms just in time for Ciri to hurl herself against his chest. She cried for several minutes before she calmed enough to notice Yennefer there. She stared. Tears stained her cheeks, and the surprise at getting caught crying threatened to set her bawling again. Yennefer made a quick decision. 

"You stole my pillow."

The surprise cut the impending tears short.

"I'm sorry?" Ciri said, but it sounded more like a question. Geralt chuckled and kissed her hair. 

"She's talking about me. But I'm sure she can be persuaded to share." 

Ciri sniffled. "Can I sleep in the middle?"

"Sure thing, kid," Geralt said. She wiggled out of his arms and squeezed into the half-inch of space between Yennefer and Geralt. Unperturbed, Geralt yawned and settled back down. 

"Night, Yen. Night, Ciri."

They lay in the dark and silence for several minutes, none of them asleep. After a few minutes, Ciri tilted her head to check Geralt was asleep. He was not, but the sight of his closed eyes and slack features apparently convinced Ciri he was. She snuggled a little closer to him and mumbled, 

"Good night, Dad."

"Dad?" Yennefer mouthed silently in the dark, and a small smile spread over Geralt's face. He reached out for her in the night. Yennefer stayed awake long after the other two fell asleep, turning the word over in her head. Dad. Alone in the dark, she felt rather foolish. She had spent so long chasing a family and a child of her own -- and here it fell into her lap in the form of a grumpy witcher and a half-feral witcher-girl. Her grumpy witcher, she thought, and liked the idea. Her half-feral witcher-girl, and she liked that even more. She would like it even better once enough time had passed for Ciri to think of her with the same affection she plainly had for Geralt. Yes, Yennefer thought, this family was not what she had looked for, but it would do nicely.


End file.
